


down came the rain and washed the spider out

by kadtherine



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Other, Peter needs sleep, may knows peter's spidey, may parker is awesome, obiviously, post homecoming, sick spidey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 08:41:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15882549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kadtherine/pseuds/kadtherine
Summary: “I’m not Sherlock, silly. I’m Peter-Man,” May cocked an eyebrow at that, her arms crossed, “I mean, I’m Spider-” A coughing fit interrupted Peter’s convincing argument, forcing him to sit up“What you are is definetely sick, darling nephew of mine."





	down came the rain and washed the spider out

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a year ago but never ended up posting on here, so here you go, I guess.

May came home to an empty apartment and sneakers thrown in front of the door. Swallowing a swear, she kicked one of the shoes away with an aggravated sigh and slammed the door behind her. Throwing her keys onto the console table, she walked further into the apartment to unsurprisingly find Peter’s schoolbag left against the couch, his homework and doodles sprawled on the table. Groaning, she dumped her bag into the the armchair and made her way into the kitchen, hoping to find Peter leaning against the floor while dunking oreos in a glass of milk. Much to her disappointement, the kitchen was devoid of hungry teenager. In its place, May found an opened - untouched - can of soda, a half-eaten sandwich abandonned on the kitchen counter and the television turned on the news channel.

 

 

Her aggravation turned into concern as she listened to the news anchorman droned on and on about a road truck accident on the Brooklyn Bridge involving Spider-Man’s heroic actions. Leaning onto the counter, she grabbed Peter’s sandwich and bit into it, downing it with his soda as she read to the headlines scrolling on the bottom of the screen. Her head itched to grab the remote and turn the TV off, yet she couldn’t look away from the screen. Every since  she had found out about Peter’s extracurricular activities - and once they moved on from all of his pitiful excuses of him being into cosplay - May had been adamant about setting ground rules : the first one being May also knowing when he went on patrol - she didn’t give a  _single shit_ about Stark having put a tracker in his suit or Karen, whoever she was, assuring his safety during his outings. May didn’t care being Peter’s  _Guy in the Chair -_ Ned should consider himself lucky that she hadn’t gone to his place to tear him a new one as soon as she had found out about Peter. 

 

May kept watching the news until it moved on to a weather forecast. With another sigh, she turned off the TV and placed the dirty dishes into the sink before seh moved back to the living room, ordering Peter’s stuff on the coffee table and folding the rug and comforter before drapping them over the back of the couch. Grabbing the bin from under the table, she threw away dirty napkins and crumbled balls of paper. She smiled as she got sight of a small caricature of both herself and Ben, the latter seeming to be mocking behind her back as she scolded Peter. A groan and loud thump coming from the end of the hall put an end to her contemplation. Frowning, May put down the bin and crossed her arms against her chest. 

 

 

 

“Peter?” she called, her voice cautious. 

 

 

 

Confusion turned to fear when her question stayed unanswered. Pulling on her sleeves, May quietly moved toward the entrance, grabbing the umbrella hanging from the frontdoor before she toed of her shoes and slowly made her way through the hall, her weapon hidden behind her back and her steps light. May peaked through the cracked doors of the bathroom and her bedroom. Ben’s office was, unsurprisingly, locked shut, which left Peter’s room. Letting out a breath, May raised her weapon above her head and pushed Peter’s door from the tip of her fingers until it was fully opened. She couldn’t help the sigh of relief that escaped her lips at the sight of Peter sprawled on his bed. Dropping her umbrella onto the floor, she rushed into the room and closed tbe window Peter had undoubtely crawled in, still fully clothed in his blue and red suit. 

 

 

Sitting down on the end of his bed, she noticed that Peter had lifted his mask up to his nose, revealing his opened mouth as he snored. Letting out a small snort, May slowly left his head and manoeuvred herself so it rested on her lap. She slowly took the mask of his face so he wouldn’t wake up, wincing as he moaned, turning his head away from her hands. May shushed him, running her fingers through his hair as she threw the mask on his night table.

 

 

 

“ _Jesus,_ your hair’s dripping wet,” May muttered as she wiped her hand on her pants, “And what the  _hell_ is that made of?”

 

 

 

As she started to look for a zipper or button, May watched, bemused, as Peter let out another groan and unconsciously raised a hand to his chest, tapping it twice. May’s eyes widened, letting out a low whistle as the suit seemed to deflate on its own. Peter moved off her lap and grabbed a pillow, shifting a few times on his mattress before finding a comfortable position. Tucking her hair behind her ears, May stood from his bed and grabbed a towel and - what she hoped was - a clean shirt off his desk chair before she moved back toward Peter’s sliding off his costume and gently drying off his skin from the wais up before she slipped the shirt over his head, guiding his sleeping head and limp arms through the right holes. 

 

 

 

“I’m gonna need you to help me a bit, Pete,” she sighed, poking his side with her finger.

 

 

“But I’m sleeping, May,” came Peter’s whiny response, earning a smile rom the older woman. 

 

 

“I can see that, bud, but you’re dripping wet and you need to get out of your clothes if you don’t want to get catch a cold.”

 

 

“it’s raining outside,” Peter mumbled, sinking deeper into his mattress.

 

 

 

 

May rolled her eyes at the obvious and poked Peter’s side again, the latter squirming away from her.

 

 

 

 

“Come on, Sherlock. I promise I’ll let you sleep after but you need to get up and change into dry clothes, “ May insisted, punctuating each of her words with a jab of her finger.

 

 

“I’m not Sherlock, silly. I’m Peter- _Man,”_ May cocked an eyebrow at that, her arms crossed, “I mean, I’m Spider-”

 

 

 

A coughing fit interrupted Peter’s convincing argument, forcing him to sit up. His brow furrowed, Peter groaned and looked up at May, his eyes narrowed and slightly red. Letting out a scoff, May ruffled his hair.

 

 

 

“What you are isdefinetely sick, darling nephew of mine,” she sighed, dropping the towel on his head, “ scrub me that hair dry."

 

 

 

Giving her the stinkeye, Peter grabbed the towel off his head and dragged it through his hair, slowly slidding out of his suit and kicking it to the other side of the room, oblivious to May moving out of the way. Clicking her tongue in disapproval, she went to his closet, grabbed a pair of sweatpants out of it and threw them at his face without a warning.

 

 

 

“Thanks,” he muttered, slipping the pants on in one swift motion while May grabbed the towel off his lap and whipped the back of his neck. 

 

 

“So,” she started, throwing the towel over her shoulder, “You’ve been pretty busy lately.”

 

 

 

 

Peter looked up at her, his brown eyes wide opened and his mouth gaping like a fish out of the water. A look that Peter had perfected at six when he had been caught in the kitchen, chocolate crips around his mouth and breath smelling like sugar and an empty cookie jar. A look that usually meant that while he was aware he had been caught, Peter was in the process of looking for an excuse that would incriminate him. 

 

 

 

“I watched the news earlier,” May explained with a knowing smile, not letting him the time to come with an elaborate story.

 

 

 

Peter blinked at her before barking out of a laugh, bowing his head as he ran his fingers through his hair. 

 

 

 

“Yeah,” he muttered, his voice slighty hoarse, “today’s been kinda insane.” 

 

 

 

May hummed, nodding in understanding. Not that he was any position of ever understanding what Peter went through every day. She could, at the very least, try to. A new wave of cough racking Peter’s body made her wince in sympathy. 

 

 

 

“You know, we should take the day off tomorrow. Both of us. I mean, I definetely need the rest and I could use the compagny of my favourite nephew.”

 

 

“I can’t stay home tomorrow,” Peter protested, leaning back against his bedframe, “I’ve got a chemistry test and then, I’m meeting with the decathlon team. MJ will have my head if I don’t show up. Again,” he added with a grimace before coughing into his elbow. 

 

 

“Yeah. I’m pretty sure MJ and the decathlon team can function without you for a day. You’re staying home and that’s final."

 

 

 

 

Groaning, Peter sunk down and ran a hand over his face. Clearing his throat, he rubbed the back of his neck and looked up at May.

 

 

 

 

“Y’know, you don’t have to miss work to take care of me.”

 

 

 

May stifled a sigh and tucked her legs under her. May’s work and their source of income had been a subject of discourse between the two. May refused to let Peter have a part-time job or take a look at the bills pilled on the kitchen counter. She had learned to stop refusing his assistance when he offered to, at least, help with the taxes. She pretended she didn’t notice him slip the money he had earned babysitting in the jar sitting on top of the fridge. In exchange, Peter pretended he didn’t know she always slipped an extra bill of ten in his wallet before he went to school. For someone so adamant about honesty, May did let Peter get away with a lot. Plastering a smile on her face, she tilted her head to the side and patted his knee. 

 

 

 

“I can afford to take a day off work, don’t worry your pretty head about it. Beside, how else am I going to spend time with New York’s favourite Spider? Organize my own kidnapping and hold myself hostage?” she added, her eyes narrowed and her tone teasing. 

 

 

Letting out a snort, Peter rubbed his nose and sniffed.

 

 

 

“I don’t think that will be necessary,” Peter retorted, a yawn escaping his mouth, “now: i was promised sleep in exchange of me getting dressed.”

 

 

 

With a small laugh, May jumped off his bed, running her fingers through his hair.

 

 

 

“And sleep you shall get,” May affirmed, watching with amusement as Peter wiggled under his comforter and blanket.

 

 

 

Taking Peter’s phone off his night table, she grimaced at the sight of missed calls and unanswered texts - from both Ned and MJ. May turned off the device and made a mental note to call Ned later, warning him that Peter wouldn’t be going to school tomorrow and that he had made it home in one piece.

 

 

 

“Alright,” May cleared her throat, shooting a quick look at her watch, “It’s 5 right now, which means you can have a three-hour nap before dinner.”

 

 

“Awesome, what are we eating?” Peter mumbled, already drifting back to sleep.

 

 

“I was thinking about ordering from that pizza place we ate at last friday,” May formuled her response as both a question and suggestion.

 

 

 

Her smile widened at the sound of Peter’s appreciative hum, the latter slowly raising a closed fist from under the covers.

 

 

 

“Wicked.”

 

 

Smothering a laugh, May pumped her fist against his before bending down and kissing the top of his head, her lips lingering for a second too long. Letting out a sigh against his forehead, May leaned back, her smile slowly fading.

 

 

“Sleep tight, bugboy,” she whispered.

 

 

 

May barely registered Peter’s mumbled protest that spiders weren’t bugs as she moved to shut the blinds. May moves back to Peter’s side, pulling his blankets to his chin before she relucantly pulled back, leaving the door ajar as she left the room. There was this irrational fear raging in her, that if she were to pull the door shut, Peter would dissappear out of her sight; May wouldn’t put it past him to jump out the window at the sound of police sirens.

 

May briefly passed by the kitchen, grabbing a bag of Cheetos out of a cupboard before she made her way to the living room, dropping into the armchair with a relieved sigh. Tucking her feet beneath her, she grabbed the remote of the coffee table and turned on the tv, mindlessly going through the channels as she leaned back into the chair. Her fingers froze over the remote as a newsreport concerning Spider-Man came on.

 

His heroic actions had apparently attracted the mayor’s attention, the latter being pressed into giving the city’s key to Peter.Dusting the orange powder off her hands, May lifted her head from the armrest and turned up the volume, her gaze stuck onto the screen as the image switched from New Yorkers cheering the vigilante to a replay of of him rescuing the Midtown Decathlon Team back in D.C. May couldn’t help but hold her breath as she watched Peter soar through the air, guns and cameras pointed on him as he crashed through the closed window and into the Pentagon. She knew Peter had succeeded in his rescue and had came back to her unharmed - as far as she was aware of. May was aware that he was currently sleeping, safe and sound in his room with for only enemy  a simple cold. She was also aware of all the fights that hadn’t been caught on screen, of all the lies that had been told and off all the wounds that had been hidden.

 

With a loud sigh, May switched channels until she stopped on some rerun of  _That’s So 70′s Show._ Resting her head onto the armrest, she emptied the rest of the bag in her mouth before she threw it on the table and grabbed the comforter folded over the back of the chair. She let her own yawn escape her mouth, scratching the back of her head before her hand fell onto the back of her neck and her wandering gaze, onto the framed photo resting on display on the tv stand. May found herself reflecting her glazed smile as she stared, her smile widening as she took note of both figures surrounding her, arms wrapped her waist as she had wrapped hers around their shoulders. Wrapping her blanket around herself, May went to sit in front of the tv stand, her thumb going to Ben’s face, the latter’s grin as wide and joyful as his eyes. May tried to ignore the lump in her throat and the tight ring around her finger as she let out a breath.

 

 

“We had to go and raise him to become a superhero, huh?” she whispered, her thumb drawing circles on the photo.

 

 

 

Ben, unsurprisingly, stayed silent and kept staring at her, as if silently telling her that was what he had intended Peter to become. Clearing her throat, she leaned back against the coffee table and brought the frame to her heart, a smile tugging at her lips. Maybe it had all been a part of the plan and May would’ve to see it unfold before her very eyes. She’d be damned if it didn’t mean that she couldn’t intervene in it to make sure that their friendly neighborhood Spider-Man had someone to keep him on the right path and out of wet clothes.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading this, i love you tons ! i would love you even more if you took the time to leave a comment, it means the world to me and makes my heart sing. i would love you forever if you followed me on tumblr, @lesbianxshuri.
> 
> until next time, you awesome people,  
> kadi.


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